


FFA Prompt Collection

by harrow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrow/pseuds/harrow
Summary: A collection of responses to prompts on FFA. Newest:  100 words of snow.For a whole Spring, he’d been convinced he’d seen snow for the last time.





	1. 100 words of uncomfortable hugging

“Wait!” hissed Harry, his arms tightening around Draco. “They’re still looking.”

Harry’s voice was low in Draco’s ear, his breath ghosting against his neck. To Draco’s shock, Harry’s body was warm, and surprisingly firm; he suppressed a shudder. As Harry turned his head, his nose pressing along his ear, Draco’s heart thumped wildly, a surge of adrenaline coursing up his throat. He clutched the back of Harry’s robes.

“Just another minute,” Harry muttered. “I think they’re leaving.”

Draco’s heart was beating so rapidly he was surprised Harry hadn’t noticed it. He found himself entirely unconcerned with their onlookers; the smell of Harry’s mussy hair, and the press of his arms against his back, seemed to have consumed all of his rational functioning. To his horror, somewhere deep below his gut, a heat was stirring, pressing into his jeans.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, Harry released him. 

“Jesus,” Harry said, with an awkward half-grin. “That took forever, didn’t it? I though they were never going to leave.”

Draco froze. The sudden absence of body heat felt like a robbery.

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. “Er. Well. Okay. That’s that, then. Right? See you round.”

Draco’s throat was surprisingly tight.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Okay. See you, then,” and with a sharp about turn, he marched out of the Great Hall without looking back, his heart spasming out of his chest.


	2. 100 words of heroes being unexpectedly enslaved by their friends

Ron was watching him closely.

“Now, Harry,” he said. “Mate. Listen: this is for your own good, all right?”

Beside him, Hermione looked terrified, wringing her hands together.

“Oh, Harry,” she said, as her eyes filled with tears. “You know we wouldn’t do it unless we felt we had to, right? Unless we had no other choice? You’re—you’re just scaring us, and—“

“—and we don’t think you can be trusted with yourself right now,” interrupted Ron gruffly.

“It’s just for a little while!” Hermione said, as though desperate to justify herself.

Harry looked between them, or as much between them as he could look: he was currently petrified, unable to move even his head, and tried to communicate his fury in a series of feverish blinks.

But all that did was make Ron look more determined, and he pointed his wand between Harry’s eyes. Hermione cried, “Oh, _Harry_ ,” covered her face with her hands, and then Ron shouted—

“ _Imperio!_ ”


	3. 100 words of vampires

With a flash of heat, Draco’s fangs pierced Harry’s neck. Pain raced through him, a sharp, burning sensation. Behind Draco, prowling back and forth like an excited cat, Voldemort cackled.

“That’s it, boy!” he hissed. “ _Drain him!_ ”

Blood was flowing freely down Harry’s front. Vaguely he tried to pull away, but he was too weak: Draco’s hands were like iron around his upper arms. His breath was coming hot and fast against Harry’s neck. He could feel Draco’s tongue pressing against his skin, sucking his blood out of him.

“Mal… foy…” Harry moaned. He felt light-headed. “Please…”

Draco paused, his breathing rapid. He shifted his head.

“Don’t stop!” screamed Voldemort. “I command you! _Turn him!_ ”

Draco let out a warm breath. Harry groaned. He felt like a weak puddle, held up only by Draco’s arms. There was an instant of warm, wet tongue; Harry gasped; and Draco’s fangs plunged back into him.


	4. 100 words of flowers

The stem blossomed into a flower in Harry’s hand.

“Brilliant,” Harry said.

Malfoy looked pleased with himself.

“Can you do another?”

“I can,” Malfoy said, “but this time for a price.”

“Oh?” asked Harry, turning the flower this way and that.

“Lean closer.”

Harry did. He looked up and stared expectantly at Malfoy.

“Here,” Malfoy said.

He grasped his hands around Harry’s, and the broken stems in Harry’s fists surged with warmth and then bloomed into a hundred brilliant petals. 

But Harry was unable to watch them, for in the same moment Malfoy leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Harry’s.

Malfoy leaned back, his face pink.

Harry stared at Malfoy. “Oh,” he said. Malfoy turned pinker. Harry looked down at his hands, now filled with blossoms. “Thank you,” he said.

“No problem,” replied Malfoy, and fled out the door.


	5. 100 word of medically-induced revelations

Harry’s heart surged with the kind of surety he had rarely felt.

“I love him,” he declared.

Hermione’s eyes widened; she made a strangled noise like she was about to laugh. “You _what?_ ”

“I love him.” Harry broke into a smile. “I just realized. Isn’t that wonderful?” He paused. “I should go tell him.”

He threw back the covers and began to get out of bed. Ron stopped him.

“Mate,” Ron said, sounding uncertain, “you’re saying you’re in love with _Draco Malfoy?_ ”

Just hearing his name caused another surge of happiness. Blushing faintly, he nodded.

Ron gaped at him. This time Hermione really did laugh, though she smothered it with her hand.

“Harry,” Hermione said, “I think you might, er, be experiencing some side effects from the Healing Potion.”

“Healing Potions can do _that?_ ” Ron asked her.

“I think you ought to stay here and sleep it off, all right?” said Hermione.

“I feel fine,” Harry insisted.

“Trust me, mate,” Ron said, “you do _not_ want to walk around like this.”

Harry looked between them suspiciously. “Well, all right,” he said.

A few hours later he was waking again, his mouth thick with cotton and a headache pounding through his ears. He opened his eyes to see Ron and Hermione sitting in chairs near his bed; when his hand rustled the sheets, they looked up at him.

Then he remembered. “Oh my god,” he said.

Ron and and Hermione both burst into laughter. Harry tried to join them. But he couldn’t tell them the real reason he felt gobsmacked.


	6. 100 words of sleeplessness

He’s walking in the Forbidden Forest. There’s a lantern in his hand, pouring green light onto the encircling trees. Before long he reaches a clearing. There’s a figure kneeling over a pale, wounded unicorn. With a jolt, Draco realizes it’s his mother: she’s drinking its blood. Terrified, he shouts at her to stop. She doesn’t. “I have to…” she moans. “I have to…” He tries to approach her but the distance between them keeps stretching, growing; and then he’s surrounded by blackness. He holds up his lantern but the light within it seems to have wilted. There’s a noise behind him and he jerks around. His heart leaps into his throat: standing far too close to him is Harry Potter. He’s looking up at Draco, his eyes dark and glassy green. “Malfoy,” Potter says, in a strange voice, “why did you kill me?” Draco realizes Potter is covered in blood. He looks down to find the source and sees a sword plunged through Potter’s middle—and his own hands around the hilt.

Draco wakes up as suddenly as if someone had doused him in water, his heart pounding in his ears.


	7. 100 words of snow

It was an odd thing, snow. He could probably fill a Penseive with memories of it. Fred and George enchanting snowballs on the school grounds and sending them flying at Quirrel’s head. Chucking snow at Malfoy from under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak. A thick layer of it on a magical sign before a destroyed house. 

For a whole Spring, he’d been convinced he’d seen snow for the last time.

But here it was again. Harry lifted his head and let the snowflakes fall onto his face. It was sunny.

Someone nudged his arm.

Harry lowered his head: Ron was standing next to him in the deep snow, looking a bit odd in multicolored knit clothing. 

“You all right, mate?” Ron asked, quietly.

“I’m great,” said Harry. Mrs Weasley had given him a green knitted cap, and now he pulled it over his ears. “Let’s go,” Harry said, “can’t have Hermione and Ginny stealing all the fun, can we?”

Ron grinned at him. “I’ll race you,” he said.

“All right,” Harry agreed. “On the count of three. One, two—“

And he took off across the snow-covered field, Ron crying out and then running after him.


End file.
